Absurd
by gf7
Summary: Written for TN LJ Challenge. If even Zoe Shannon can see it, why can't Wash and Taylor? Mostly fluff with a wee bit of romantic tension.


_A/N: This little piece was written in response to a prompt on the TN LJ community - pretty much what if Zoe called out the obvious (in regards to he and Wash) to Taylor. It's fluffy and non angsty for the most part. And perhaps even OOC, but I think it's fun and light and a nice departure from all the depressing (though brilliantly written) fics going around right now. Let me know if you like it. And thank you as always._

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><p>It's perhaps the most absurd - and cutest thing that he's ever seen Alicia Washington ever do. And despite acts of cuteness being something that his second command is assuredly not prone to (he can just about visualize her displeased if not downright irritated reaction to even hearing the label get assigned to her), what he's watching her do down below in the Main Square of Terra Nova is also utterly and absolutely charming.<p>

It's late at night on a Friday evening, and the many of the colonists (especially the under forty set) are assembled together down in the Main Square celebrating – well something. There's loud music playing (mostly guitars and drums) and people dancing and the overall mood is decidedly joyous and carefree.

Maybe it's the discovery of a new form of plant life with almost ridiculous healing properties (Dr. Shannon had certainly been rather giddy about it). Maybe it's the safe recovery of an entire research team that had been pinned down at Outpost Four for almost a week (Wash and Jim Shannon had been in charge of the rescue, and has returned just this afternoon after almost six days OTG). Most likely, though, the folks down below are simply celebrating Friday.

The people down below celebrating aimlessly are not what Commander Nathaniel Taylor is entranced by, though. What he sees, what he can't take his eyes off of is the sight of his clearly exhausted down to the bone second-in-command holding young Zoe Shannon in her arms.

Taylor has known for a long time now that Wash has something of a giant soft spot for children. It's a strange thing, really, because most people would be quick to assume her the type to absolutely dislike kids. They would, of course, be completely wrong. She finds something refreshing in their innocence, a reminder of why she has made the choices she has. Why she is what she is.

And now, as he watches her from his perch against the rail of the Command Tower, he sees that Wash is pretty much dancing around with Zoe, laughing as the youngest Shannon child babbles on about this or that.

No one would have blamed Wash if she hadn't shown up for this little impromptu colonial gathering. By all rights, both she and Jim Shannon should be back at their respective homes, sleeping off the fatigue and weariness of the last several days. Not to mention the bruises, cuts and scrapes across their bodies.

And yet both of them are down in the Main Square, dancing the night away, and looking like they haven't a care in the world.

Yeah, it's the most absurd and yet cutest thing he's ever seen.

"Sir," he hears. He turns and sees Guzman approaching, the younger man still wearing his uniform even though he's been off duty for several hours.

"Guz," Taylor nods, greeting his lieutenant. The soldier is often OTG, going from outpost to outpost, the man generally in charge of ensuring that all of their outposts run smoothly. When the Outpost 4 situation had occurred, he'd been in the opposite direction completely, and thus unable to do more than return to base and wait for Wash and Shannon to resolve the issue.

"You just going to watch, sir?"

"Was thinking about it," Taylor admits with a small smile, his eyes still locked on Wash. He sees her tilt her head back, laughing in a way he seldom sees. She's hardly a dour woman, but laughs like that show off a kind of joy that most soldiers forget how to draw up within themselves after all they've been through.

Guzman nods, then, coming up to settle next Taylor, leans forward on the rail.

"Looks like a good time."

"It does. Why aren't you down there?" Taylor queries.

"I have to be up early to head back out to Outpost Two. Plus, I really don't dance," Guzman replies. "Though it kind of looks like the lieutenant does." He gestures towards Wash and Zoe.

"Oh, she does," Taylor chuckles. When Guzman lifts an eyebrow, Taylor continues, "Years ago, after a pretty nasty little skirmish, my unit went to celebrate at a little hole in the wall bar. The night involved a lot of drinking, a few fights and some crazy dancing. Interestingly enough, Lieutenant Washington down there was involved in all three. May have even started one of the fights."

"I don't doubt that for a minute, sir. Though, I bet she wouldn't mind a different partner, if you don't mind me saying."

"Can't say as I follow, Guz," Taylor responds, turning to face the younger man.

For a moment, Guzman looks stunned. Surprise flashes across his dark features, and then unmistakable discomfort. "I…uh…I just…I'm…."

"Spit it out."

"It's just…I'm sure the lieutenant wouldn't mind dancing with someone her own size. That's all, sir."

"Ah. Well, from where I stand, Guz, she looks pretty damn comfortable dancing with little Miss Zoe."

"Yes, sir, she does. I need to be turning in, sir.

"Safe travels in the morning, Guz. Radio in when you get there."

"Yes, sir. Good night, sir."

The young lieutenant makes his way down the steps, off towards his house on the far edge of the colony, stopping only briefing to speak to his daughter, who is in the middle of a group of young teenagers including Josh Shannon. Taylor watches, his expression turning into a contemplative frown.

He knows damn well that Guz had been hinting at far more than just a size issue in regards to Wash's dancing partner.

Nathaniel Taylor is not a dense man. He's heard the rumors. He knows very well that many around the colony believe that he and his second in command are romantically involved. Most folks think they have been for many years now. And the ones like Guz who know for a fact that they're not actually in a relationship seem to think that they should be.

It's utterly preposterous. Right? Of course it is. Absurd even.

He's known Wash for over a decade now. She'd known his wife, and actually been good friends with her. He's met some of the men that she'd allowed to be part of her life for an extended period of time (the longest he can recall is a few months – after all, there are very few men who are comfortable enough in their masculinity to allow themselves to be with a stubborn headstrong woman who could literally rip their balls off in three seconds flat. Without breaking a sweat).

They've seen each other in their best moments and worst. They've been there for each other when no one else was. And yet in all that time, there's never been anything close to a moment where a line could have been crossed.

Right?

His frown deepens as his mind continued to spin. Lately, partially thanks to the whispers, assumptions and rumors – which have been for some bizarre reason (likely the boredom of tranquility) been increasing in volume - he's found himself thinking about this more and more. And it's bloody well damned distracting. Why, he wonders, does everyone presume them a couple? Because they're always around each other? So what? She's his second in command. And a dear friend.

And yes, he's a man and she's a woman. And yes, she's beautiful. And…

He groans.

This is ridiculous. Everyone down below is enjoying themselves, and he's up here brooding on absurd thoughts. As if on cue, he sees Wash glance up, her dark eyes seeking and finding his own blue ones. She smiles at him, a genuinely open one, and then inclines her head as if to suggest that he come down.

He nods at her, then slowly descends the stairs, towards the Main Square. She's standing almost smack in the middle of it, Zoe's arms still wrapped around her neck. To her side, he can see Jim and Elizabeth Shannon, the two of them lightly swaying to the campfire style acoustic guitar music that is filling the warm night.

"Folks," Taylor says as he approaches. Wash greets him with the same wide smile that she'd flashed at him a few seconds earlier (he tries not to think about the surge of…something…that goes through him at that).

"Commander, good of you to join us," Jim says, turning slightly away from Elizabeth to acknowledge Taylor's presence. "We figured you were just going to keep watching until it got really creepy."

Taylor chooses to ignore that. Jim Shannon seems to get a kick out of button pushing just about everyone. "How you feeling, Shannon? You look like hell."

"I look better than her," Jim laughs (he doesn't miss the icy glare that Wash throws his way). "You have a chance to read over our preliminary reports yet?"

"Glanced through it. Didn't notice anything in there about injuries, Wash," he replies, looking over at her. Their eyes lock and for a moment, in spite of everyone around them, it's just the two of them caught in a battle of wills. It's always been funny – or completely irritating - to her how strung out and worked up he gets over even the tiniest of her injuries to her and yet how annoyingly cavalier he is about his own, no matter the severity.

It's Elizabeth Shannon who breaks it up (or at least attempts to), her accented voice soothing as she says, "Commander, I assure you, the lieutenant is just fine. She suffered a few bruised ribs, and some standard contusions and abrasions consistent with the time she and Jim spent out in the jungle. Nothing major."

"Mm," Taylor rumbles, eyes sweeping over Wash's frame. She holds her gaze steady, stubbornly refusing to back down from his. Finally, accepting Elizabeth's diagnosis and prognosis, he says, "Clearly not considering the dancing." He steps towards her, but now his eyes are on the youngest Shannon. "Miss Zoe."

"Commander," the little girl says, grinning toothily.

"Wash, you mind if the little lady and I go for a spin?"

"Not at all, sir," Wash replies, handing Zoe over to the Commander. He doesn't miss the slight wince Wash gives off as her ribs undoubtedly screech in protest at the sudden movement of shifting Zoe's weight away from her. Their eyes lock again, but this time, he chooses not to say anything. At least for now.

Instead, to Zoe, he says, "Would you like to lead?"

She shakes her head. "I led with Lieutenant Washington. I'm tired. You lead."

The other adults around laugh, but Taylor, as good with kids as Wash is, simply flashes her his most charming smile, and says, "I would be delighted."

And with that, he moves Zoe off into the middle of the square. He's aware of the many eyes on him – knows that most of the colonists find the sight of their tough commander dancing with a six year old child to be beyond adorable. He supposes that they're not wrong, but he also could give a damn what this looks to anyone. For him, it's exactly what it is to Wash – a moment of remembering why he's chosen the path he has. Seeing the innocence in Zoe's eyes makes everything worth it. This is what Terra Nova is all about it. Her future.

"So, how's your day been, Miss Zoe?" Taylor asks as he turns her around, delighting in the giggling noise she makes (oddly, it reminds him of the sound Wash had made a few minutes earlier, when she'd been in much of the same position with Zoe). He dips her slightly, and that just makes her laugh harder.

"I went to school," she answers. "Tough day."

He laughs. "I bet." He leans in so that he's almost nose-to-nose. "Between you and me, I had a tough day, too."

"Because Lieutenant Washington was in the jungle with my daddy?"

He lifts an eyebrow. "Part of it, yes."

"Thought so."

"Oh and why's that?"

"Because you have the same look on your face whenever she goes off with my daddy that my mommy has whenever daddy goes off with you or her."

"Do I now?"

She nods.

"And tell me, does Lieutenant Washington have that look when I go out, too?" He knows this is somewhat low, using a small child to get his recon, but curiosity gets the best of him. With the way these thoughts have been going through his head as of late, this tidbit of information suddenly seems vitally important.

"Worse." She leans in close. "I heard daddy say Lieutenant Washington gets very cranky when you're outside."

"Does she now?" This is hardly news to him – or at least maybe it shouldn't be. He's always known how much Wash worries about him. He knows that she hates it when he's out there. Especially when he's out of radio contact.

Zoe nods, her hair bobbing, a tendril of it scratching against his nose.

"Interesting," he says, his eyes tracking back over towards Wash once again. He wonders if maybe it's time to deal with what everyone clearly sees. Maybe it's time to get all the cards out on the table and see if there is anything to all the assumptions and presumptions.

Zoe yawns in response to that. It's wide and open-mouthed. And incredibly timely considering the thoughts going through his mind at the moment.

Thoughts that are decidedly not professional and typically not allowable in most chains of command. But then again, Terra Nova isn't like most places. And the chain of command fraternizing policy here is a guideline instead of a requirement. It's frowned upon to date your superior or subordinate, but not outright banned as long as no abuse of power or position occurs.

"All danced out, Miss Zoe?" Taylor asks her with a smile. He can still remember when Lucas had looked like this – also in his arms. So small and innocent and full of youthful energy and hope. God, so many years ago.

She nods her head sleepily.

"Very well." He twirls her back over towards where Jim, Elizabeth and Wash are standing, the three of them engaged in a conversation. From the looks of it, Jim and Wash are recounting part of their recent mission – likely something mutually embarrassing by the way the two of them keep exchanging half-amused glares and light physical jabs to each other. He notes the way Wash's hand is settled on her side, her fingers lightly pressing on her bruised ribs. It occurs to him that knowing her, she's probably being stubborn again, and refusing painkillers.

"I have come to return your daughter to you, Shannon. I assure you that I have been a complete gentlemen through and through," Taylor announces with a broad smile as he steps up next to the trio. "I believe Miss Zoe is about ready to send up the white flag on this evening."

"Yeah, looks like. Okay, let's get you into bed, Little One," Jim says as he takes Zoe from Taylor. The little girl drops her head to her fathers' shoulder.

"Just one more thing before you two go," Taylor says, his eyes sliding over to Elizabeth "Was the lieutenant prescribed any painkillers for her injuries?"

Even from a couple of feet away, he can feel the way Wash stiffens up, her mood quickly going from easy and calm to anxious and irritated. Her eyes dart towards Elizabeth, as if asking for help. It's almost amusing to see his normally confident lieutenant suddenly looking like a child who has been caught doing something she shouldn't be. Which she probably has been.

"Yes, she was, but I…uh, I agreed with Alicia that it would be fine if she took them before going to sleep tonight."

Suffice it to say, Elizabeth Shannon is a miserable liar. Taylor, however, isn't stupid enough to call her on it.

Instead, he mutters, "Uh huh." He's gotten to know Elizabeth treatment style after all of these months with her at the head of the medical team, and delaying medication that could alleviate pain isn't something she typically – or ever - does.

No, chances are, the conversation had gone more in the vein of Elizabeth suggesting the painkillers, and Wash outright rejecting them. Absurdly stubborn and almost belligerently strong as always.

"All right then. Good night, Doc. Shannon. Miss Zoe."

The trio all repeat the good night to him, then turn towards Wash and give her one as well (Jim squeezes her shoulder and they share a look of exhausted pride at what they'd accomplished that day, Elizabeth offers her a look of gentle reproach, and Zoe tops it all off with a soft kiss to the lieutenants' cheek).

Once they're gone, Wash turns to Taylor and says, her voice quiet and weary, "I think that's going to be it for me as well, sir." It seems like the energy that she'd had just seconds earlier has now abandoned her leaving her exhausted.

"I'll walk you to your house," he offers, deciding – rather insanely he admits to himself – to see where this goes.

"You don't have to."

"I'd like to."

She lifts an eyebrow. This is far from the first time he's walked her home (though usually it's because they're engaged in a work conversation) but somehow this feels far different. Oddly emotionally loaded. "On one condition."

"I won't mention the painkillers," he promises.

"You just did," she grouses.

He chuckles and then shrugs, admitting as much. "So, I thought maybe we should talk," he says as they're halfway to her place.

She sighs. "Sir, you'll see from the full report, the injuries were unavoidable."

"I'm not talking about the injuries, Wash. Though, I'm sure we will talk about them tomorrow. After I see the report."

"Uh huh. Then I admit, I'm lost, sir."

"I'm talking about us."

She stops walking. "Us?"

"You ever thought about an us?"

"Have you been drinking, Nathaniel?"

"Not yet," he smiles. "But if you want to invite me in for a drink, that'd be fine."

"Okay, sir, all due respect, but what is this about?" Her patience is razor thin now, a combination of exhaustion, pain and the sudden frustration that this odd conversation is bringing on. She knows damn well that she's thought about an "us" involving her and Nathaniel more times than she ever should have. She also knows that her feelings for him go far beyond where they should go.

Still, he's never shown any sign of echoing those feelings so what the hell is this?

"Invite me in for that drink, Wash."

She shakes her head. "It's been a really long couple of days, sir, so if this is one of your games where you're trying to get me to admit I'm in pain, then fine, okay, you win. I'm in pain. A lot of it. And right now, all I want to do is take a very long, very hot shower, and sleep until it's time to get up for the pre-dawn patrol."

He frowns at that. That's she admitting to the pain she's feeling is enough to make him have seconds thoughts about this conversation. Maybe it really can wait until later. Maybe it's stupid to have it at all. Nothing necessitates it.

"Understood, Lieutenant," he nods, stepping back. "We can have this conversation another time then."

His sudden fallback resonates in her just as sharply as her admission of pain had struck him. "Nathaniel, stop. Talk to me. What's going on?"

He rubs his hands over his eyes, looking far more agitated then she's used to. Then he shakes his head. "We worry about each other," he says.

"Of course we do. I care about you and you care about me. Have for over a decade. What does that have to do with anything?"

"I think it has everything to do with everything," he says, taking a step towards her. He's impressed by how she holds her ground, doesn't show any signs of worry or concern about his approach. "You know everyone around here thinks we're together. Or should be."

She laughs dryly. "I know."

"You do?"

"If I didn't hear things for myself, Shannon is always happy to update me. The man has no basic understanding of boundary lines."

"Do I hear affection for our sheriff, Wash?"

"Well, we did manage to not kill each other over the last few days. I suppose that creates some degree of…affection."

"So what has Shannon told you?"

"Why are we having this conversation, Nathaniel? What does it matter?"

"You're going to make this difficult for me aren't you?"

"Well I'm sure as hell not going to make it easy on you," she replies. "But honestly, it's probably better we don't go down this path at all. I think maybe you've just been worried about me being OTG for the last week, and it's making…I think we just shouldn't have this conversation, okay?"

"Are you afraid, Wash?"

"No, sir," she replies defiantly.

"I think you're lying."

"And I think I'll see you in the morning, sir." He can tell that he's wounded her pride a bit, perhaps too much. Yeah, time to step back.

He nods. "Sleep well, Lieutenant."

He's turning away when she makes the mistake of reaching out to grip his forearm. Her touch sends a spark up him, and it's almost like his brain short circuits for a moment. Long enough for him to turn around and in a move straight out of a romantic comedy, he spins her and kisses her hard.

She gasps under the sudden hard contact, her hands momentarily flailing as he presses his palms flat against the sides of her face. Distantly, in the part of his mind that is still functioning, he wonders when she will push him away.

He's still wondering that a few seconds later when her muscular arms circle around his torso, pulling him in towards her. And that's when he realizes that she's the one deepening the kiss, intensifying it. Going for more.

When they finally separate, her eyes are wide and surprised, but from the way she's looking at him, she's not at all displeased by what had just occurred. In fact, she looks downright turned on. It's a rather appealing visual.

"Wash," he whispers, one of his hands still touching her cheek, his thumb lightly tracing small circles into her skin. "God…"

"Yeah…I…uh…I think…I think I need that shower, sir," she tells him. That's when he notices the way she's breathing – a little big ragged, no doubt owing to both the emotions she's feeling as well as the pain from her ribs.

He nods slowly, reluctantly choosing the path of retreat (how bizarre, he thinks) instead of pursuit simply because it seems to him that neither of them are quite ready to explain what had just occurred. He sure as hell isn't.

And that she's in pain, and in desperate need of rest certainly helps all of that along. It – like Zoe's yawn from before – is a timely distraction indeed.

"You're okay, right?" he asks, one of his fingers tracing over a cut on her cheek. It's been properly treated and sealed, and is thus unlikely to scar, but that doesn't mean that he can't feel it now.

He feels her hand settle over his, her fingers intertwining with his and then squeezing lightly. "I'm fine." Her voice is so low and gentle that for a minute, she almost doesn't sound like herself. But then she meets his eyes with hers, and she's all Wash. Lightly teasing, utterly determined, and tough as nails.

"If you say so," he chuckles, reluctantly removing his hand from her face. He sees her immediately drop her own into her back pocket, like she's not sure what else to do with it.

"I do, sir."

"Enjoy your shower, Wash," he tells her, forcing his eyes away from her mouth before he does something that he's not sure either of them want. Well….he's not sure she wants. Right now, there's little else he'd like to do than kiss her again.

And dear Lord isn't it strange how absurdly strong and demanding that urge has suddenly become.

"You, too, sir," He sees a small sly smile flit across her lips, and it's enough to calm him considerably. She's not angry or upset. Confused like him, probably, but not unhappy. And he's amazed by just how much that realization thrills him.

Enough anyway for him to push again, just a little bit. "So, before I leave, about that conversation we were going to have. And I mean the actual talking part."

She shakes her head, interrupting him before he can continue. She meets his eyes, her gaze intense and thoughtful and slightly pensive. "Look, what just happened here…I'd be lying if I said I didn't really enjoy it, but I don't want to lose you, Nathaniel. I can't lose you so if we need to not to make sure that doesn't happen and that means never having that conversation, I can live with that."

He's stunned by what he hears. Doesn't she realize that there's nothing that she could possibly do that what cause him to walk away from her? Doesn't she understand just how strong their bond is?

"You're no coward, Wash."

"About you, I am, sir."

And then he gets it. He'd met Ayani when he'd been just a young teenager fresh into the service. There'd be no fear between them, no worries of friendships destroyed or memories tarnished. They'd just come together and stayed together until she'd been taken from him in Somalia.

His relationship with Alicia Washington couldn't be more different, and in that moment of gazing at her, he understands her fears.

Even if he doesn't share them.

"Then I'll wait for you to be ready. But we are going to have that conversation."

"Yes, sir."

"And Lieutenant, I would suggest we have it sooner as opposed to later or else you'll never hear the end of it from Shannon."

She groans. "What makes you think I'll hear the end of it from him no matter what we do. The man never shuts up."

"You make a great team."

"You and I - we make a great team. Shannon's just a giant pain in the ass."

"Well as long as you two keep doing like you did today, he's _your_ pain in the ass."

She grimaces. "Wonderful." He laughs at that (earning him a half-hearted glare from her). Seems to him (though he dare not say as much) that Wash in a state of denial about a whole lot of things this evening.

Agreeably changing the subject, he says, "By the way, I don't want to see you tomorrow morning. No pre-dawn patrol for you."

"Sir?"

"That's an order, Lieutenant."

She grits her teeth. "Yes, sir."

Biting back the urge to lean in and touch her again – knowing damn well what it will lead to (he really wouldn't mind kissing her again, and feeling her arms wrapped around him) he instead flashes her a smile meant to be charming (she's too annoyed with him now to show him that she is actually charmed by it) and then reluctantly, he turns and walks away from her.

They both know two things for certain as he disappears down the rocky walk:

One – they're going to have that conversation, and it's going to change everything.

And two – come morning, she sure as hell is going to be right beside him for the pre-dawn patrol. Orders or otherwise.

Because his lieutenant is if nothing else, absurdly stubborn.

It's one of the things he likes best about her.


End file.
